The Job
by AZGirl
Summary: Recent events have Danny wondering if Steve is leaving Five-0.


**Title**: The Job

**Summary**: Recent events have Danny wondering if Steve is leaving Five-0.

**Disclaimer**: Hawaii Five-0 is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

**Spoilers**: Only if you've not seen the Pilot episode.

**A/N**: When I'd heard that the Navy SEALs were involved in recent world events, an idea immediately came to mind and wouldn't let it rest until I'd written it down. BTW, I'm definitely _not_ an expert when it comes to anything military…

_This story begins on May 2, 2011, just one day after Osama bin Laden was reported to have been killed. _

ooooooo

I arrive right on time at Steve's house to pick him up so that we could drive into work together. It's not like we didn't drive nearly everywhere together anyway – so why not carpool?

The front door was locked and the alarm was still armed for a change which was very unusual and slightly worrying. When Steve knows I'm on my way over he usually leaves the door unlocked, but not today. I knock, but after a couple of minutes without my partner coming to the door, I can't help that my first thought is to wonder if he's in trouble.

There's one more thing I can try before I'll myself get too worked up. Taking my cell out of my pocket, I hit the speed dial for Steve's number. A moment later, I can hear the faint sound of the ring I didn't know was mine until today. The ringer for which I will shoot him for later.

_Ukulele music? Seriously_? I think as I roll my eyes heavenward. _Why is this my life?_

I sigh in frustration when the ringer finally goes to voice mail. Where the hell is Steve?

Hand on my side arm; I decide to go around the side of the house to check the situation out. The guy could just be out of earshot of his phone, right?

Once around the side of the house, I make my way to the lanai to see if I can spot anything suspicious. Every so often I make sure to take a look at my surroundings, and once I clear a clump of bushes, I can make out a figure sitting in one of the chairs down by the water.

As I make my way closer, I can tell it's definitely McGarrett sitting there so I relax my grip on my weapon, and feel myself gearing up to yell at my partner for making me think something's happened to him. When I'm within 20 feet of him though, I can see that my friend is practically oblivious to my presence – though I have no doubt that on some level he knows someone is behind him.

Sensing something is up with my partner, I detour around to sit on the other chair instead of going to stand in front of him to yell at him like I'd originally planned. Steve is sitting there in his blue swim trunks with a dry, neatly folder towel draped over one knee making me think that though he'd intended on swimming, he'd never actually made it passed the chairs we were in.

His posture is rigid despite the casual way he's sitting leaning on his right arm and his hand resting idly by his mouth. His expression is clearly contemplative, but when I sit down he momentarily relinquishes his laser-focused stare out into the ocean to quickly glance my direction. He knows I'm here, but he clearly isn't ready to go to work quite yet – and I don't just mean the state of his dress.

Given last night's big news, it's a good possibility that he's thinking of the global ramifications, but my gut feeling is that's not all he's thinking about.

Not being the shy type, I dive right in with an easy question.

"Did you hear the news?"

Steve nods, but doesn't break his visual connection with the sea. And, for once, my partner's face doesn't tell me a thing. It's actually kind of unnerving not being able to interpret one of Steve's faces.

Feeling uncomfortable, I decide to just keep talking. "Isn't it great that your fellow SEALs were the ones to get him?"

Again Steve distractedly nods, and I'm actually kind of surprised he's being so blasé about the wonderful news. When I'd heard it last night, I was overjoyed that the families of those who were killed on 9/11 were getting a measure of justice nearly ten years later. I'd lost friends that day and seen the destruction up close, so I definitely felt that justice had been served even though the war on terrorism was far from over.

So Steve's non-reaction was more than a little surprising. I thought he'd be overly smug over the fact that it was a SEAL team that had accomplished this win against terrorism.

I look out over the water before me and wonder why Steve was acting so odd. And, then an answer comes to me as quick as lightening.

Before I can stop myself I blurt, "Do you miss it?"

Finally my partner reacts, but it's not anything I'm expecting. He stands up, towel in hand, and starts walking toward the house saying, "Give me 10, and I'll be ready to go."

Dumbfounded by his reaction, Steve is almost halfway to the house before I can even think of how to respond.

ooooooo

We arrive at HQ only a little later than normal after a mostly silent car ride. I tried engaging him in conversation, but he wouldn't respond beyond a short phrase or two.

Chin and Kono are already there watching the news on the monitors and flipping the channel to a different station every once in a while. It's a quiet morning and we all watch the news together for a time before Steve eventually stealthily backs away and goes into his office presumably to get some work done.

But, the expression he wears on his face most of the day is very similar to the one he'd had earlier on the beach. He was still clearly preoccupied by the news, but in a different way than how most people were reacting.

I sigh. _The giant freak can't even manage to react like a normal person to such good news_, I think to myself.

Even the criminals seemed to take the morning off. But, of course the shock and jubilation didn't last long, and we caught a difficult case that afternoon.

Steve, who had seemed to very slowly be adapting to proper police procedure, had clearly regressed. His approach to the case was a little more hard core than usual, and he barely stopped to eat or catch a few hours of sleep. His interaction with people and especially with the rest of Five-0 became mechanical and almost as if we were strangers and not the close team I thought we were.

The concept of laser-like focus seemed to become an understatement where Steve was concerned. All three of us were worried about him, and the cousins at least were wondering what was going on with their boss. They looked to me as though I had all the answers, but I don't.

The only thing I know is that my friend never answered my question. And, by not answering, it may mean that I actually do have my answer. I'm not sure what to think about that.

Steve probably does miss being on active duty. If he'd been active, then he likely would have been picked to be part of the team who'd infiltrated Pakistan. But, because he'd taken the job as leader of the governor's task force, he'd missed out on the chance to capture and kill one of the worst terrorists the world has ever known.

I can't help wondering if McGarrett is now regretting his decision to lead Five-0 – if he thinks he's made a mistake for staying on the Islands once he'd taken out Hesse at the docks during those mad, rushed days when I'd first met him. When my life changed for the better, even as my odds of seeing Grace graduate high school seemed to severely decrease.

Finally, late on Wednesday, we catch our bad guys in a perfectly executed raid where we escaped with only minor cuts and bruises. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost swear Steve was almost overly-cautious in all facets of the operation.

By the time we'd wrapped things up, it was almost ten o'clock at night. And, not long after arriving back at HQ, Governor Jameson called to praise us for a job well done and to order us to take the next day off to rest and recover.

We stowed our equipment as fast as possible after that. The team definitely didn't need to be told twice to go home. I notice that once Steve puts his gear away, he simply leaves with barely a word to us. Because we're all exhausted, the cousins don't think his behavior is all that odd, but it leaves me feeling unsettled.

It only occurs to me when I'm more than half way home that Steve didn't have his truck. But, I figure he would have come back into HQ once he'd realized or waited for me by the Camaro if he'd wanted a ride. I'm half tempted to make sure he's made it home safely, but I'm so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open as I arrive at my apartment complex. The next thing I know I'm in bed and falling asleep.

ooooooo

The next day, I wake up late in the morning and for a moment I panic that I'm really late for work. But, then I remember the governor's order to take the day off, and I spend the next half hour in bed just dozing.

Once I take care of my bladder when it makes itself known and demands my immediate attention, I'm awake for the day. As I drink my coffee, my thoughts turn to Steve's odd up and down behavior of the last few days. Eventually, the question of whether Super SEAL misses his old job comes to mind.

His non-answer to my question really starts to bother and annoy me. I want to know, so on impulse I get ready for the day – dressing in casual clothes to hopefully throw him off a bit from the fact that I'm not wearing a tie on a week day – and head over to his house.

It's almost noon when I arrive and unlike it was on Monday, today the door is unlocked and the alarm is disarmed. As I step through the front door, the idea that Steve's actually been waiting for me to show up all morning pops into my head. Just as quickly though, I dismiss that idea. My partner's avoided the topic for the last few days, why would he suddenly want to talk now?

I call out Steve's name as I enter, but get no answer. Once I'm far enough into the house, I notice the windows and doors leading to the ocean side of the house are all open. I figure Steve is sitting, relaxing by the sea, but all I find is his neatly folded towel draped over one of the chairs.

I start scanning the water and finally catch sight of Steve out pretty far, but swimming back towards the shore. I head back into the house and go into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and two bottles of beer before heading back outside to sit in the same chair I'd occupied only a few days ago.

I set the beers down in the sand by my chair leg but hold on to the bottled water. Once Steve is close enough, he stands and swipes at the seawater running down his face as he walks towards the shore and the chairs. He sees me sitting there and lifts his head a bit in silent greeting and one side of his mouth quirks up into a small smile.

When he gets close enough, I return the nod, yell 'catch' and throw the bottle of water towards him. He easily catches it, gracefully plucking it out of the air, and drinks it down in several long gulps causing me to wonder just how long he'd been out there swimming. Finishing the water, he puts the cap back on the bottle and tosses the empty towards me saying 'thanks' as he reaches for his towel.

He quickly and efficiently dries off and sits down with a tired sigh. We sit in silence a few moments admiring the scenery (which I'll deny I'm doing to my last breath) before I reach down and grab the beers. I have to tap his against his upper arm to get his attention, but once he sees it he takes it and smiles. We both twist our caps off and take a sip savoring the coolness and taste of our Longboards.

"Don't you usually go out earlier than this?" I ask as I point towards the water.

"I went for a run first."

"You went for a run?" Steve nods looking confused and not understanding why I'm getting wound up. "Do you not understand what it means to take a day off from work?" My friend opens his mouth to speak, but I keep talking and his mouth snaps closed. "We just closed a case where we barely slept for three days. That means you go home and sleep—"

"I slept," he interrupts.

I cut him off from saying more with a sharp, "Why are you talking? I'm not finished yet….

"You sleep in past your normal wake up time. You lounge in bed for a while or get up and hang out in your pajamas sipping coffee while you read the paper or eat breakfast or whatever.

"What you do not do is go out and attempt your own personal triathlon without the bike race! You were probably up at your usual time weren't you? Then you decided today would be a good day to exercise until you drop after a long and exhausting week that's not even over yet!

"How is that normal?"

By now, Steve's eyes are full of mirth and he's fighting a smile or even a laugh. "Are you done?"

I nod huffing out a frustrated sigh. _Does the guy even know how to relax?_ I ask myself.

"Good," my friend begins. "I slept. I even slept in, but once I was awake I had all this energy and decided to burn some of it off. It's not anything I've not done before. Usually I only have time to go for a swim though."

"Fine," I concede, before giving voice to my earlier thought. "Do you even know how to relax?"

"Exercise can be relaxing," he replies smirking.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" I grumble before swallowing down another sip of beer.

We fall silent basking in the familiarity of our usual banter, and I realize that we're always going to be agreeing to disagree about many things (everything?) for as long as we know each other. I have to smother a smile at that thought.

Finally I decide to disrupt the sound of the waves breaking upon the sand. "What's been going on in that Super SEAL brain of yours these last few days?"

While staring out into the water before us, Steve takes a long draw at his beer and swallows. I can tell by his face that he doesn't quite know how to express what he's currently thinking. So, I remain silent hoping the ocean's calming effect helps my partner collect his thoughts.

Finishing off his beer, my friend sets the bottle down next to his chair's leg, before taking a deep breath and meeting my eyes.

"On Monday, you—" he stops and shakes his head. After a moment, he continues, "You asked if I missed it the other day. I'm guessing you meant if I missed being on active duty instead of in the reserves."

I nod. He looks down and quietly says, "I do." And, he almost sounds ashamed for admitting that out loud to me. He meets my gaze once more. "I do miss it sometimes.

"It was easier. I was told where to go and what mission I was to accomplish. I led my team or squad, did my job, and got the bad guys."

He falls silent and shifts his eye line to the water again.

"What I'm about to tell you is highly classified and extremely sensitive. If anyone ever found out I told you, I'd be immediately court-martialed and sent to prison for a very long time. But, I need you to know so you can understand."

"Steven, I'm your partner and more importantly your friend. You do know I would never break a confidence like that, don't you?" _Geez, how can he even think I'd betray him like that?_

He looks at me and what he sees in my face or eyes convinces him of the truth behind what I've said. The corners of his mouth twist up slightly into a small, barely there, smile.

"I know, Danno," he replies with an apologetic tone to his voice. He then nods once as if confirming his own decision to reveal what he's about to tell me.

"Some years ago, I was once part of a SEAL team that went after, but failed to get those primarily responsible for the attacks on 9/11."

"I guess I should've expected the military had gone after those guys more than once, especially the recently departed."

Steve nods, but doesn't at all elaborate leaving me to wonder just how many of those secret missions there'd been or how many he'd been involved in.

"Our intel turned out to be bad and the mission was FUBAR. A couple of my men were hurt pretty badly."

The SEAL pauses and I notice that his right hand is subconsciously clenching and unclenching and he's rotating his wrist in specific controlled, practiced movements. It leads me to surmise that he had been injured in that raid as well. His arm suddenly stills and he continues.

"Don't get me wrong, Danny; I was thrilled the other night to hear we'd finally got that guy. But, it brought back memories of that mission and I couldn't help but begin to wonder how many more soldiers and innocents had been killed or murdered since then. How much more collateral damage there'd been because my team failed in its mission."

For once, I'm rendered speechless. I have no idea what to say in response to Steve's admission of guilt. That's when I realize he shouldn't feel guilty at all for his mission's failure.

"Steven, you can second guess your decisions into oblivion, but any deaths attributed to those terrorists are…not…your…fault! You were under orders, your intel was bad, and there had to have been other missions like yours since then and before this last one.

"I am absolutely 100% confident that you and your team did _everything_ humanly possible at the time to get that hatemonger. But, it was just not meant to be at that time. _You_ are _not_ to blame, OK?" I finish by poking my finger in his chest to punctuate what I've been saying.

He doesn't look convinced, but he acknowledges what I've just said with a short nod.

"Since you've come home, you've helped lots of people and brought many bad guys to justice, and I'm sure you did the same thing when you were on active duty. _Please_ don't blame yourself for events beyond your control, alright?" I have to duck my head down in order to meet his eyes.

Again he acknowledges what I've said with a nod, but this time there's a quiet "OK" that accompanies it. I reply with an equally quiet, "Good."

He might never fully let go of the blame and misplaced guilt he's put upon himself, but that quiet 'OK' is a start.

The slight breeze has picked up enough to cool the temperature slightly and messes my hair up a little. As I run a hand through it, I'm mentally reviewing our conversation and decide there's more regret running as an undercurrent through it than that associated with a failed mission. I don't really want to know the answer to my next question, but I ask it anyway.

"Do you want to go back?" To my ears, the question is asked with a resigned tone to my voice.

Maybe Steve's recent attitude is not just him dealing with bad memories but him trying to distance himself from us before he leaves the task force. And honestly, I'm not sure what would happen to Five-0 if Steve were to leave us. I'm not even sure what I'd do without my best friend around to make this palm tree dotted hellhole bearable.

But, Steve actually looks both surprised and perplexed by my question. And his response is not quite what I'm expecting.

"I love this job. Why would you think I'd want to go back to active duty? For most of my career in the Navy since I completed training, I've been posted overseas serving my country from afar. With Five-0, I'm right in the thick of things protecting my home in person.

"I never really saw the long term results of what I was doing overseas, but here with this task force I can see the immediate effects and the immediate benefits. Even though it started under personally devastating circumstances, I think our team is the best thing to happen to me in a long time."

When my partner and friend finishes speaking, I can't help but feel a huge amount of relief at what he's just said. Because if I'm honest with myself, I would admit some of the same things. Aside from my daughter's birth, and even though I miss the rest of my family and New Jersey, I also think this job is one of the best things to ever happen to me.

I clap Steve on shoulder and say, "Me too, Steven. Now… If you are done torturing yourself, I'm starving. How about we get lunch? My treat."

I grab my empty beer bottle, stand and start walking back towards the house. It takes Steve about two or three seconds longer than I'd anticipated for him to realize that I'd finally admitted that there was something good about Hawaii besides the fact that my Gracie lives here. When he does catch up to me, he has a big grin on his face.

He slaps my back lightly and says, "How about we call Chin and Kono and have a BBQ here instead?"

"That, my friend, is an excellent idea. I could definitely go for a steak right about now and another beer…"

ooooooo

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**A/N**: I know some of you were expecting an update on my other story, but I decided to post this today instead. I hope I'm forgiven… ;0]

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_My thanks goes out to all those who serve in the armed forces._


End file.
